Over the last few weeks, I have found myself in a very dark place. A place I am used to, a place I have been to many, many times before. But this time it has been different. Previous visits to this place have usually been shorter and after a period of time, I manage to leave on my own accord, not this time.

I felt the same sensation the pressure, the anxiety, the loneliness, the guilt the regret all pilling up on me slowly weighing me down till I could not make it even an hour without falling to pieces. I held it together the best I could in public for I fear the stigma that is attached to me and my illness. Not everyone understands what it is like to not have full control of yourself constantly.

My visit to the Psychiatrist proved to be unsuccessful as he deemed me unfit for the outside world and wanted me admitted and sedated saying that it would “reset” my brain as if I was a cell phone that just needed to be rebooted. When I rejected his logic he cast me off stating, I was an uncooperative patient and that by refusing to abide by his medical and professional opinion he saw no reason to continue to see me. So he sent me off with a month’s worth of the final prescription he had written for me and a letter to my GP explaining that I would need a referral to a new Psychiatrist.

Lucky for me my GP was helpful and understanding of my situation, and quickly got me an appointment with a new psychiatrist in a city 1 hour away. Unfortunately, my file was not forwarded on to this doctor so my first appointment was more a meet and greet were we discussed passed history and my current state of mind. but due to my mindset, I wasn’t much help as I find myself in a constant state of fog and confusion most days, knowing I should be trying to pull myself out of this but unable to find the handholds to pull me up.

So here I sit in a state of limbo trying to will things to get better but having no support to do so. People have said to me; “Why do you need medication to be normal?” and I can’t help but feel guilty, and sad, and angry all at the same time. Cause if they only knew what I wouldn’t give to not have to be medicated to function in this society, they would not ask such unintelligent questions.

I saw it coming, I have learned to recognize the signs. Not everyone is so lucky. I felt my moods shifting slowly at first and then rapidly like the ups, downs and jolts of a roller coaster ride. I like to refer to it as a ride because than I can warn people and tell them to buckle up. If you don’t fight it and just come along for the ride it can be quite exciting! But than again not everyone can handle Bi-Poplar Brandi, I can’t even handle her eventually.

When I start dissociating myself from my daily life, is when I begin to realize things aren’t quite right. Going through the motions with work and even idle chit chat with other people is one thing, but when I am distancing myself from the person and people I love that is when I know I need to deal with myself.

Dealing with myself is the hardest thing ever. Admitting that I am failing at the basic functions in life is by far one of the most embarrassing things I have ever had to do and I have had to do it a lot. It doesn’t get any easier.

Admitting to yourself that you need help is the easy part, going to ask for it is the real struggle. Having to explain the how’s and why’s to someone when you yourself doesn’t even know is the most frustrating thing to do. But if I don’t do it, it only gets worse.

Now I have had to ask for help several times in my life and I have gotten different reactions each time. Doctor’s typically ask me the same questions and as I have gotten to know the doctor’s the questions have gotten less and the remedy quicker which as begun to make me wonder if it is really helping me, or do I need to get a second opinion and a start fresh.

The feelings are so strong it almost hurts. The longing is always there and I try to show it the best that I can, but I am locked in the little red box.

The little red box is where I keep everything that is sacred to me.

My heart and my soul.
My heart, like many is battered and bruised. Put through hell and climbed back out retreating to the little red box.

My soul, well it has never left the box. It does not get touched. For it is the most sacred of all. Very few have ever even caught a glimpse of it and those we have, well I hope they know how rare it truly is.

The red box is as much a prison as it is a sanctuary. With all the security I get from it, there is an equal balance of loneliness.

Everyone wants to be loved and understood. Finding someone to love your heart is easy. Finding someone to understand your soul, well that is entirely different.

I’ve let my heart out of the little red box and it is feeling things I never thought it could feel. But I long for my soul to be touched, to be whispered to, to be soothed.

My heart will take the beating until it has convinced the soul that it is safe to come out.

But for now I am just going to hide in my little red box. Where it is safe.